


Haven't Had Enough

by candypinksocks



Category: Franklin & Bash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-25 17:25:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candypinksocks/pseuds/candypinksocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’ve got this tradition. </p>
<p>It didn’t start out as a tradition, because when stuff gets started it’s just an idea, a one off maybe. Then it happens again and some more, then it becomes a habit and only after that does it become a tradition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haven't Had Enough

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be straight up porn. And then it wasn't anymore.
> 
> For Vic, whose tireless pursuit of perfect comma placement makes all things better. And who loves me regardless of how many times I do it wrong.
> 
> Title from the Marianas Trench song of the same name.

They've got this tradition. 

It didn't start out as a tradition, because when stuff gets started it's just an idea, a one off maybe. Then it happens again and some more, then it becomes a habit and only after that does it become a tradition.

Senior year of high school they get jobs clearing litter off a three mile stretch of the highway, Franklin & Franklin's sponsored three mile patch of the highway, and less a paid job than a volunteer gig. Leonard's idea of character building or some bullshit and of course he had to get three miles, when one would have been more than enough. They get a hi-vis vest and a garbage bag the size of Jared each and get dumped at the little _'Franklin & Franklin For a Cleaner Los Angeles'_ sign, every morning for a week. Get picked up at the other, slightly bigger, sign at the end of the three miles when they're done.

It takes them less than an hour on that first day to figure out it doesn't take a day to clear three miles, much less a week, so the second day they take lawn chairs and a cooler full of the beer Peter's been 'collecting' - one can a week from his dad's six packs over the last three months - and find a patch of grass away from the road.

It's not the first time they've fucked, but it is the first time they've fucked outside in broad daylight. And neither of them will remember whose idea it was in the first place, and neither of them cares. Jared thinks maybe Peter's got a thing. But he's okay with that because he thinks maybe he's got a thing too.

So, they've got this tradition.

It's not just about fucking outside, although it really is a thing. It's about firsts. The first time they go to a bar. The first night in a town. When they move into the dorm and score a shared room even after Leonard did his level best to get them housed in different blocks. When Peter aces his Corporate Law paper on the fourth go around.

They don't talk about it. They've never had to talk about it. It's just them.

*

They get the keys for the Cave on the same day their new ad airs on local cable. It's a double first and deserves everything they can give it. Pindy refuses to move in 'til they've had the kitchen counter sterilized and Carmen locks herself in her new room and blasts bad 80's disco through the closed door, just because she knows everyone hates it.

They start the Cabo fund - again - that same week, and blow it all - again - on getting the Jacuzzi installed and then cleaned out after Jared wanted to see what it was like giving Peter head under water with bubbles.

So yeah, they've got a tradition, but it's never been about getting caught, regardless of Peter's outdoors thing. They'd be fucking at work the whole time - apart from that time when they got their new double wide office with it's own executive bathroom - and that would be total unprofessional. No really, it would.

And then comes the beach house.

They have the clothes they're standing in, the Prius but no Bronco (the house fell on that) and Pindy's probably going to smell of smoke for a week. Regardless of how many showers he takes. Carmen has the beach house stocked with everything before the ink's even dried on the lease agreement. 

And everything's all too new.

They split the rooms how they've always split the rooms. Except now it's on different floors. Jared and Peter take up and Pindar and Carmen take down. There's an extra bathroom down, more space but less windows. That first night they sleep out on the deck, the clear sky all stars and the surf washing away the day from their little patch of beach. 

Jared wakes up with cramp across his lower back and Peter's elbow digging in his ribs, but he can't help but smile. They've lost everything but they've all still got each other and as stupidly sappy as that sounds, he's always going to take that over everything. The sun's only just making the edge of the horizon that awesome pinky-blue colour and it'll be another couple hours before they need to be thinking about work. But Jared's awake now, so that means Peter needs to be awake too.

"Hey, asshole." Jared pokes too hard at Peter's ribs, digs his fingers in 'til he knows it's got to hurt and isn't even a little bit surprised when Peter rolls them over and knees Jared in the gut.

"Still dark, Jared," as he's pushing himself up and scrubbing his fingers through his hair. He twists to bring himself so he's facing Jared and gets his knees either side of Jared's chest.

"You fell asleep." Jared's hands land on Peter's hips, his thumbs light over the jut of Peter's hip bone where his jeans have slipped down a little.

"It's what people do when they go to bed." Peter looks down at Jared like maybe he went a little mad in the night.

"Deck's not bed and you fell _asleep_ " Jared nudges at Peter's back with his knee and smiles and maybe it's a little shy, 'cause even after all this time he still can't - they just don't talk about it.

"You're blushing."

"No I'm not." He totally is. "Shut up, you can't see anything, it's too dark." 

"If you can't talk about it, Jared, then you probably shouldn't be doing it."

"It's not sexy in any way, shape or form to quote my _mom_." And that particular conversation is up there in his top ten of most awkward conversations you never want to have with your parents, right along with the one after his dad found the used condom Jared didn't hide very well, as in not at all, after he and Peter got a little carried away at the Franklin  & Franklin Summer Associates Ball the year they graduated high school.

Peter smiles at him then and Jared remembers just why such a smile can be deadly in the wrong hands. "So what d'you wanna do?" Peter's tracing his fingers oh-so-slowly over Jared's belly, soft enough to just be a tease, but still enough to remind Jared there was a reason he woke Peter up.

"So we've got this tradition..." He presses his thumbs a little harder, dips his fingers down under the waistband of Peter's jeans and rocks his hips up as much as he can when there's a giant man crushing him.

"We do?" Peter Bash is an asshole because he's smiling again and because he's going to make Jared fucking say it.

They don't have secrets. There's no hidden places at the backs of their closets full of past skeletons - partly because all of their past is wrapped up in each other and mostly because neither of them can keep a secret from each other worth a damn. They don't have secrets, but there are some things Jared just doesn't talk about, preferring vague hand gestures and an assumption that Peter knows what he means. To be fair, Peter _always_ knows what he means. It makes for awesome law partnering and even more awesome sex. But sometimes Peter wants more than vague hand gestures and knowing what Jared means. Sometimes Peter really is an asshole.

Jared frowns and Peter just smiles some more, his fingers slowing to an almost stop and Jared, under no circumstances whatsoever, wants Peter to stop.

"It's just you and me."

And Carmen and Pindar - who has super human hearing by the way. But Jared doesn't pull the _'but the kids might hear'_ card, just holds on a little tighter, nails scratching on that little soft bit just above Peter's hip he likes to bite sometimes.

"So we have this tradition." Peter starts to run his fingers up under Jared's shirt and back down again only to push up a little further, his shirt rucking up under his armpits and Jared almost forgets he supposed to be talking 'til Peter goes to stop again. 

"Shit, _okay_ , and last night we were out here and it's our new place and you -" Peter's fingers dig in just under Jared's ribs and he shakes his head. " _We_ fell asleep and we didn't get to do what we normally do when we go somewhere new."

"Jared." Now Peter's not just stopping but leaning back, like he's getting ready to be getting gone. And fuck that, no.

"If you think you're getting off this deck without one or both of us getting off _on_ this deck, you're gonna need some kind of sex contingency, is all I'm saying."

He gets another poke for that and then Peter's dropping down again and rolling them 'til Jared's on top and wedged between Peter's thighs. "Can't escape now." Jared's not sure which of them Peter means, but he's good with either so he just grins and shrugs and lets a little more of his weight rest on Peter.

"You should probably kiss me now. You're still a considerable flight risk and I don't want to lose my bond, so I should do my level best to keep you occupied, you know, at least until the cops get here."

And Peter smiles and pulls Jared closer still, gets his hands all over Jared's back and his legs wrapped around Jared's thighs. "And you should probably get naked now." 

And then he kisses Jared and it doesn't matter that there's morning breath and last night's burritos or that they've done this a million times before, Peter always kisses him like it's the only thing, like he'd die if he didn't. He's got his hands in Jared's hair, his hips riding up with every press of his lips, each little bite winding Jared just that much higher, 'til he's breathless and a more than a little stupid with it. Just like always.

Jared doesn't pull back 'til he can't feel his lips, can't hold a thought much past getting them both naked. 

"Naked." It's more of a kiss than a word but Peter gets it, pushes at Jared 'til Jared gets the idea and leans back only enough for them to get to each other's buttons, and back just a little more when Peter nearly smacks him in the face pulling his shirt over his head. Jared really misses when Peter would just walk around naked all day.

Jared ends up sitting in Peter's lap with his pants tangled 'round one ankle and Peter's shirt bunched up in his fist. They're staring at each other, barely blinking, a dare neither of them is very good at resisting.

"I didn't forget." Peter kisses Jared's jaw and then a little below, traces a line to that spot just under his ear that always, and that's no lie, makes him make a noise he used to be embarrassed about.

"So quit stalling." Jared's head drops back as his hips rock forward, knees planted either side of Peter's hips to lift him up just enough to get something close to what he wants. "Oh fuck!"

"You're so easy." 

"And you're talking too much."

"So shut me up."

Jared has a list of ways to shut Peter up, all of them best used naked, or at least thinking about getting there. He smiles, tips his head to one side like he's thinking about the best one from the list, when really it doesn't take much thinking, he's already decided. He kisses Peter. They fall together, Peter's back hitting the deck with a thud and they freeze for a second, both looking at the door and then Peter's kissing him back and not saying a damn word.

It's easy. It always has been, if you don't count the fumbling mess that was their first time and even then they both just shrugged it off and went back for more, sure that it was going to turn out awesome in the end. It's easy because it doesn't matter what, or _who_ happens, there's always Jared and there's always Peter and they'll always default back to the other. They've never bothered to think on why, choosing instead to go with it; just smile and shrug when, not if, anyone calls them on it and carry on like to stop would be the worse thing either of them could think of.

So Jared kisses Peter, finds the line from under his jaw to his navel, lips soft and tongue teasing, draws over Peter's hips with his thumbs and bites when Peter bucks his hips up and buries his hands in Jared's hair.

"Come _on_!" Now Jared could make Peter wait, except that Jared doesn't want to wait.

He bites again, this time on that soft spot, chases it with a kiss and then he's sliding back, fingers tracing down the outsides of Peter's legs 'til he gets his hands on Peter's ankles.

"Come on." He taps Peter's ankles and rocks back on his heels to stand up. "When I said deck, I meant that bench."

The look on Peter's face is perfect in that moment; confusion and want and then the best smile before he's up on his feet and pushing Jared back, only stopping when the backs of Jared's knees hit the cushion covering the bench.

"Kinky fucker." Peter spins Jared 'round before he gets a chance to agree or deny, really it's a close call. "Don't fall." 

"Pfft." Jared sets his feet wide on the deck as he folds himself forward, buries his fingers in the cushion and pushes his ass back, his weight resting on his elbows as he looks over his shoulder. "Fuck me." Sometimes Jared loves it when he can get Peter to look like a gaping fish. 

And sometimes - he means all the time - Jared loves it when Peter gets over the gaping fish look and drops to his knees behind Jared. He grabs hold of Jared's hips almost hard enough to hurt and pulls him back 'til Jared can feel Peter's breath over his skin.

"Hold on." There's a promise in the way Peter says that and Jared's going to take him at his word.

The first press of Peter's tongue sends a shock all the way up Jared's spine, the second sends heat chasing after it and then Jared goes a little bit out of his mind. He's not entirely sure how he forgot how fucking good this feels when it feels so fucking good, enough to have his knees threaten to go out from under him. He lets his head drop low and his elbows fall wide, pushes himself back before rocking forward again, some useless rhythm he can't even think enough to catch hold of. He's being noisy and he doesn't care, bites at his lips not to keep himself quiet, but to stop himself losing it too soon and all over the cushion, without Peter so much as getting a hand on his dick. He should tell Peter to stop, that it's all going to be over before they've got to the main show if he doesn't, but he doesn't want to, he wants to hold onto this stupid bench and make too much noise and maybe see if he can't wake Rob fucking Lowe up.

And then Peter stops.

Motherfucking sonofabitch.

Jared tries reaching behind to grab at Peter, to get him to not stop, to get him there, but his hand finds air. He'd look 'round if he could lift his head. Instead he waits, tries to catch the breath he knows Peter's giving him.

And then there's a palm on the small of his back and fingers drawing up his spine to tangle with his hair, pull his head back to kiss his jaw, messy and wet.

"Sorry I fell asleep." Peter kisses him again and pulls back to kiss the back of Jared's neck, the base of his spine, his right hip and then his left.

"'S'okay." And it really is 'cause Peter's plastered to his back now, rolling his hips just so and drawing lines with his fingertips up and down Jared's sides. Peter could do anything short of actually walking away right now and it'd be okay.

Peter doesn't walk away, he's not really a motherfucking sonofabitch. Instead he kisses the back of Jared's neck again and whispers, "Open up," as he drags Jared's bottom lip down with two fingers. And of course that's what Jared does, sucks Peter's fingers into his mouth, his tongue dipping between them, teeth scraping over the knuckles and all the while grinding back.

"Filthy - " The rest lost in another messy kiss as Peter pulls his fingers free.

There's an edge Jared kind of craves, skates along it just as far as Peter wants to take him. It's just this side of that edge when Peter pushes his fingers inside, too slow and almost too much all at once and Jared just holds on, his knuckles white and his breath useless in his chest. And then Peter's weight's gone and his knees are pushing at the insides of Jared's own and there's nothing for it but to fall further forward, bury his face in the cushion.

"Perfect." Deeper still and Peter's twisting his wrist just so and Jared's seeing fucking stars.

He spits the cushion out of his mouth and drags in a breath, more like a moan really if he's honest, and pushes back against Peter's hand. "I'm good, really, Peter, come on."

And because Peter's never once not given Jared exactly what he wants, he gives Jared exactly what he wants. 

The bench creaks and the cushion slips and Jared stops breathing until Peter's all the way inside and then lets it out with a long low sigh. He's shaking, toes to shoulders, fingers opening and closing 'round the edge of the bench just to distract him a little. It's too good; it's everything he wants if only Peter would start fucking moving.

"Shhh - "

"You _'shhh'_ , and fucking move while you're at it." He shouldn't sound so strung out, quite so desperate, but whatever, it's what he is.

"I got you." And Jared would be calling Peter on the cheesy, but he's leaning closer, then pulling back, holding onto Jared like they might fall apart if he doesn't and for once he's lost every word.

Peter's maddeningly slow and Jared knows he's got his head dipped and his eyes wide, watching Jared take him, knows that there's sweat sticking Peter's hair to his giant forehead, that Peter's biting his lip as he pulls back, he can see all of it when he closes his eyes.

He doesn't care that the bench is digging in his thighs or that if he opened his eyes right now all he'd see is sand. He's holding on and barely holding on; that edge closer every second and he doesn't want it to end. His feet slip as Peter's hips stutter, his heart in his throat for a second when the cushion goes over and into the sand, nearly taking Jared with it. And he can't help the flash of him buried face down, ass up in the sand with Peter right there still inside him while he tries to dig him out. Not a bad way to go. 

But not right now. Right now, he grips the bench hard enough to turn his knuckles white, grinds his ass back and takes everything Peter's giving him, neither of them caring much about noise or words or who gets there first, 'cause they're both getting there. And then Peter's falling on him, breath punching out of both of them as Peter's hips stutter again and he bites at Jared's shoulder, sucks the skin into his mouth as he shoves his hand down between Jared and the bench. That first touch does what it always does, knocks Jared's brain offline and tips him closer still. It's not fair, the way Peter knows. Fucking awesome, but not fair. Jared never stands a chance.

Peter twists his wrist and swipes his thumb over the head of Jared's dick and there's nothing for it but to let go, he's got no hope of holding back and when it hits him, it's like nothing and everything before and he shouldn't be surprised after all this time but he always is. He doesn't collapse, Peter's got him too close, too tight and it's seconds before Peter's right there with him, breath hot over the back of his neck and his nails digging in his skin.

"Can't breathe." Peter's heavy and the bench is all of a sudden really fucking hard against his chest. 

"Can't move." Peter kisses Jared's ear like that's going to help with the crushing and the not breathing. Okay, so maybe it does a little.

"You explain to the kids why mommy and daddy are stuck together, dead on the bench, in the morning then."

"You suck at afterglow, Jared."

"Yeah, well you just suck."

"And at witty come backs." Peter does move then, but not before he rests every ounce of his weight on Jared and leans 'round to plant a wet kiss just shy of Jared's nose. "I'm going." 

Jared follows, wobbly on his feet and a complete mess, smiling as he catches hold of Peter's arm and drags him close enough to get some of that mess all over Peter's belly.

"There's your come back." He smacks Peter's ass and skirts 'round to miss Peter's answering swipe. "Shower, come on."

They're late for work.

*

And a few weeks later, when Ellen asks him if he's ever had sex on the deck and he answers _'With another person?'_ he really means with another person other than Peter. 

But then everyone knows that anyway.

\end


End file.
